She softened her voice, though she wanted to kick him in the kneecaps. “I am grateful that you want to protect us. It’s just difficult for me to accept this nonchalance when it comes to taking another life. I understand that as a soldier you obey orders and kill or die, but it’s not the last resort here. It’s the first defense.”
“What would you have me say? That I will leave you on your own? I will not.”
She sighed. “Never mind it for now. There is something else I need to ask you.”
“What is it?”
“We would like it if Alric was here with us. The guard wouldn’t bring him and then Alric started acting like he was fine when he wasn’t and—”
He held up his index finger, went to the door, and opened it. His voice was clear and full of authority when he called out orders to the nearest guard to send out men to find Alric.
He shut the door and returned his attention to her. He began to frown and Camelee pondered how anyone could look so good when he was sulking. “You said Alric wasacting. Is that like pretending, and is that not what you said you do?” His frown grew darker. “So, you pretend you are well when you are not?”
Camelee did some scowling of her own. Oh, now he understands. “It’s not the same.”
“What is different about it?”
“I pretend to be someone else entirely—”Usually someone happy and confident.Her eyes suddenly burned with a rush of hot tears. What? Not now! Oh, what was wrong with her? Why was she so emotional? She turned to look away from him and her gaze fell on Genevra and Hild. Mother. Daughter. She trembled and squeezed her eyes shut to hold it all back.
He didn’t try to comfort her—or if he did, he was too late.
“Come and sit, dearest,” Genevra comforted at her ear, at her side almost instantly.
Camelee choked on a sob while the older woman helped her to the bed and sat her on the edge of it. She pretended. Her whole life, she pretended.
“I am fine, Genevra,” she tried to reassure her. “I’m just a little tired.”
When she felt able, she turned to see Wolf pouring some water into a cup. He was the facilitator of it all. It all started with him. Besides, of course, being flung back in time a thousand years, he was the reason she began thinking about husbands and children and mothers…and love.
He came toward her and held out the cup.
She took it, wondering if this was normal behavior for a slave-master relationship.
Hild called to Genevra, and the older woman hurried to her.
“Are you well?” he asked, his voice deep and tender to her ears.
She wasn’t sure. “It’s been a difficult couple of days.”
He nodded. “I will leave you to your bed. I would have you know, there is no need to pretend anymore.” He gave her the slightest of smiles and turned to leave.
Insanely, she stopped him with a brush of her fingertips against his hand.
She tried to hold herself together. How could just touching his hand make her want to touch the rest of him?
“How long will we be staying here?” she asked and realized they were alone. Her heart thumped in her ears when he sat at the edge of the bed next to her.
“That depends on the king. But I intend to make my desire known to him.”
She tried her best to concentrate on the conversation. It was an important one, but they were sitting on a bed, and she could think of nothing but throwing him down and kissing his boots off. She was having a nervous breakdown. That’s what it was. That’s how she could be an emotional wreck one minute and passionate for him the next. “What is your desire?”
His gaze pierced through hers and into the deepest recesses of her heart until he found something still burning. “To go home.”
“Yes,” she said on a breath.
“Tell me everything about how you came here. Maybe we can figure something out.”
What? Really? She wanted to hug him, but she didn’t dare. She was afraid she wouldn’t stop until she had him heaving above, beneath, or behind her.
